Another Path
by ChibiWolf86
Summary: A What If Story? What if Haytham's loyalties were swaying away from the Templar Order and now to the Assassins and his son? Can Haytham leave his previous life behind and make the right choice to stand by his own blood or will he return to his old ways of the Templars?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Prologue

* * *

1763. It was a reoccurring date to Haytham Kenway. Each time he sat in his study and looked through his papers, that date would always appear. The year of the Assassin Purge.

He remembered it like a carving etched into stone. The men and women who stood before him as he gave the order to end their lives. It was terribly sloppy though. Many of the people convicted could have been innocent, but it didn't matter to him- to them. What did it matter to him though? It just meant that there was no longer a threat to his Order. So why did it make him lay awake at night now? Was it because he was now feeling the guilt of all of the innocents he slaughtered?

With Reginald dead and Haytham in his place, did he go mad? With all of the anger within him and the power of the order in his hand, perhaps he did make a mistake. Finding out about Reginald betrayal, Holden's demise, and Ziio leaving him, perhaps it really did lead him astray. The training his father put him through, and the good morals he instilled into him did not go to waste. Maybe that was it as well.

His father was an Assassin and he was training Haytham to join him. After all, Reginald planned the attack that took Edward's life and his stepsister Jenny. Maybe now Haytham just began to see clearly. Templars were the ones who ruined his family; even now it still had a firm grip on his life. As soon as Ziio, his love, left him as soon as she found out where his loyalties lie. Not only that, but she took their son with her. Of course he found out. The way she would caress her stomach after the night they had spent together. He saw it in her eyes when she left him in the woods that day. Ziio feared not for her people or herself, but their son that would be brought into the world. And of course he heard news of him as well.

How foolish it was for Charles to give his name to a Native. When Church and Biddle told the _amusing _story of a green Native boy approaching them at the Vineyard, Haytham instantly knew when they mentioned the familiar necklace the boy wore. The necklace he saw around Ziio's neck. For a moment Haytham felt another back lash of guilt make its way into his stomach. If he had done the math right, their son would have been around five or six when Ziio had passed. He imagined an image of what their young son might of looked like. He would have Ziio's skin color, a shade of brown and Ziio's brown hair. And maybe he would have her eyes. His face…his face would most likely be Kenway. Another Kenway to fight for the Assassins. A grandson picking up where his grandfather ended and where his father wouldn't. And the fact that the boy was with Robert Faulkner, a man with loyalties to the Assassin from what he had heard, proved another theory. His son, of all people, had turned his loyalties to the Assassins. Destiny truly worked in strange ways, but he had to see it for himself.

* * *

It was a chilly day in Virginia. Haytham could feel winter rearing it's ugly head, and it made him want to start and finish his trip even faster. He made sure not to leave without letting his fellow Templars know first. The last thing he would need was a search party looking for their Grandmaster's whereabouts. Just as Haytham finished tightening the girth of his saddle, he heard the sound of leafs being crushed under a horse's hurried footsteps. Haytham turned to see his second in command, Charles Lee making his way down the path on his steed. The earnest young man Haytham met years ago was no longer there. Instead he saw a bit of himself inside Charles. Drunk with power and blinded by the hold he had over others.

"Master Kenway," Charles greeted him as he dismounted his horse.

"Good day Charles. What brings you here?" Haytham asked. Haytham had settled in a home a half a days ride from Charles after returning from Europe, so he knew Charles truly had something to say if he travel all the way here just to speak with his Master.

"I heard from Johnson that you would be leaving for Massachusetts. Is there something wrong?" Charles inquired.

Haytham sighed shallowly. He didn't want to tell Charles in person for a good reason. He was still earnest and quick to prove himself. "I just have some business to take care of. That's all," Haytham answered plainly.

"Do you wish for some help? I am currently not busy at the moment and-,"

"No. I would prefer to do this on my own if you don't mind," Haytham cut him off curtly.

With Charles left in somewhat of a daze, Haytham took this chance to mount his own horse and take the reins. Charles looked up at him on his horse and brushed off Haytham's attitude. "I see- and may I ask when will you return?"

Haytham shook his head, "I will come let everyone know of my return Charles. Now if you don't mind I would prefer to leave when the day is still young."

Charles paused for a moment before pulling his own steed to the side, and out of the way of Haytham's horse. Haytham gave Charles one last curt nod before spurring his horse into a jog down the breezy autumn road.


	2. Chapter 2

Achilles is such a champ XD! I decided that Isla will not have her own story, but rather be a side character in this storie. Her life is a bit different. If you guys have any suggestions for the story, plz leave a comment :D!

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

It was a four days trip before Haytham finally arrived on familiar ground. The last time he was on he was here, Haytham had left Assassin Achilles Davenport to himself after the purge. The man was beaten and his spirits were broken and the poor man wouldn't even defend himself. Believing that he could no longer fight, the Templars left him to live alone in the partially destroyed manor. It was the only small bit of mercy that the Templars allowed during and after the purge.

The day was still young and the sky was a shade of newborn blue. The sun had begun to rose from behind the small mountains and a thin layer of fog blanketed the ground. As Haytham rode through forest, he noticed several houses were rebuilt and people had settled on the land. Before Assassins lived on this land, but their houses were burnt to the ground. The people of the Homestead looked up at Haytham as an outsider. But he was one. He did not belong here and yet he remained.

When he arrived at the foot of the manor, Haytham slid off his horse and tied him to a hitching post. Haytham swallowed deeply before climbing the stairs to the manor's front door. On the doorstep of his swore enemies, his first lingered only an inch from the door. For a moment he thought back to why he was here in the first place. Up until now he never truly thought about the "Why?" factor.

Before he could dissuade himself he knocked a few times on the front door. His heart sped up as he heard hobbled footsteps before the door swung open as the manor's occupant grumbled. "Do you know what time it is?!" The person found to be Achilles grumbled. The old man's eyes seemed angered at first, but when he was Haytham standing there his expression turned to disbelief. Maybe even fear. Haytham almost didn't recognize him. He was no longer in the hood and robes he remembered him in. Wrinkles had formed on his face and grey hairs highlighted his hair. Not to mention he now leaned on a wooden cane.

The two men stood there in silence until Haytham removed his hat and spoke, "I came here in hopes that we could…talk?" Haytham said slowly, being very careful on the words he chose.

As soon as he was finished, Achilles answered, "No," in a low voice and didn't give another thought before shutting the door in Haytham's face. Ouch.

Haytham reached forward and knocked again, "All I wish is to talk!"

Then he heard Achilles shout from the other side, "You are not welcome here! Now leave!"

The old man had guts to talk that way to Haytham given the circumstances. Acting quickly, Haytham circled around the corner to find one of the second windows open. No doubt Achilles had the other doors locked up tight, but not the windows. Haytham got a good footing on the first floor window and began to climb up the side of the house. As soon as he lunged for the second window and grabbed hold of the windowsill; when he pulled himself up he came face-to-face with the old man once again.

Achilles gave Haytham no time to react quickly enough and thrust his cane into Haytham's nose. Haytham was shocked by the hit to the face; he lost his hold on the window before falling back down to the ground. As Haytham groaned and picked himself up off the ground, he felt a wave of embarrassment hit him. He must have truly lost his touch over the years if he allowed himself to be best by a senior citizen.

Haytham looked back up at the window with frustration to see Achilles leaning out of the window and looking down at the Templar Master with an amusing look on his face. "You try my patience you stubborn old man!" Haytham shouted at him, "Will you not just listen?!"

"Are you really so stupid to think that I will welcome you into my home with tea and cakes! You truly are as stupid as you are sadistic!" Achilles countered easily and was about to slam the window shut.

"Wait!" Haytham called to him. What was he going to say that would make the old man listen? Then it hit him…"My father was an Assassin!"

Although he couldn't see Achilles' face, he saw the old man stop the window halfway without showing his face. Despite this Haytham continued. "Long ago, I found out my father was an Assassin after he had passed on. And that…and that the Templar who trained me betrayed me."

Haytham waited for a moment before he saw Achilles shut the window all the way. Just as Haytham was trying to devise another plan on getting into the manor, he heard the front door open and shut quickly. Haytham was about to round the corner but was face to face with Achilles. Achilles studied him for a moment before shuffling to a large, flat rock before taking a seat that over looked the water. The sun had just begun to rise and the horizon had turned a shade of yellow. "Get talking," Achilles ordered before Haytham took a seat beside him.

"I see," Achilles trailed, "Your story makes sense in every way. But it does not explain why you are here."

The two leaders were still sitting outside and the sun had long rose over the horizon. Haytham had just finished his history with the Templar Order. Of Birch and his betrayal and of the long line of Kenway's who were proud Assassins. Achilles didn't interrupt once as he absorbed Haytham's tale.

Haytham did not respond to Achilles.

"Having second thoughts?" Achilles leaned on his cane.

Haytham chuckled, "Hardly. I still stand by the Templar beliefs but-,"

"But you find the way they go about is not suiting to your taste?" Achilles suggested.

Haytham, though he did not show it, sat there in shock.

"Through out history the Templars pursued their goals with violence and fear. The Borgia, the Knights, and in this time as well. Your Assassin like upbringing greatly clashes with the means and methods of the Templars. It is what makes the Templars who they are, and after centuries of it, you cannot change this," Achilles explained.

"Then what would you have me do? I simply cannot leave all that I stand for," Haytham asked him.

Achilles shook his head and used his cane to stand up. Haytham watched him as Achilles looked down on him, "Then don't. Stand by what you believe in and do it right, but there are other things in your life that could be fixed now."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like that," Achilles gestured with his cane to three approaching figures in the distance. Achilles began to walk over to the approaching people to meet them halfway, "Come."

Haytham's breath was caught in his chest when he saw the two white hoods and a black hat. One was obviously a woman- no, a girl since she was so small and the other two had to be a man and a boy. As they got closer and saw Achilles in their sights, they removed their hoods. Haytham couldn't believe it, he felt like he was looking in a mirror.

Even from a distance he could see the Kenway face. Even his skin was slightly lighter than that of a Native. He went over the numbers in his head and found that his son would be seventeen by now. He watched for a moment as the three conversed before Haytham stood up and began to slowly approach them from behind. When he wasn't to far away, the young girl around her teens looked up with wide eyes. Soon after her, his son followed her gaze before it landed squarely on Haytham. His son's eyes were wide with surprise before they narrowed with anger.

All the possibilities of what he would say were out the window when he locked eyes with his son. Achilles looked from Haytham to his son while everyone waited for the two to speak. The girl looked to the other man in dark Assassin robes before he gave her a nod. "Umm, we'll be inside," he said slowly as she followed the man, most likely her mentor, inside the manor. With the other two gone, the situation was much less awkward than it was before.

"Hello son," Haytham greeted him slowly.

"What is _he_ doing here?" His son barked at Achilles. Great first words to here from his son, but he was at least expecting a "hi".

"I came here wishing to talk with your mentor," Haytham answered for Achilles.

"What right do you have to come here?! After everything you have done; you do not belong here!" His son stepped forward waving an angry pointing finger.

Haytham watched as Achilles hooked his cane on the boy's shoulder so that he could turn his gaze. "Connor, he came here and explained everything to me. He is having second thoughts." Connor. So that's what his name was. Though the long conversation he and Achilles had, he never learned what his son's name was.

Connor looked at his father in disbelief and recoiled next to his mentor before shaking it off, "If you think that I will just forget what he and the other Templars have done, then you are mistaken." And just like that Connor stomped off into the manor before slamming the door behind him.

Achilles eyes lingered on the door before sighing. That could have gone better, but then it could have gone much worse. The old man looked at Haytham, not needing to say anything at all. "What am I supposed to say to him? He believes that the Order was responsible for the destruction of his home," Haytham said.

"Gaining his trust will take a very long time," Achilles informed him, "It's much easier for the boy to dislike you than to compensate and forgive even if you didn't do it."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Haytham asked.

Achilles tilted his hat up and looked at Haytham from below his hat, "Meet him halfway…and tell him what you told me. It is the only thing you can do now. But keep in mind that you must be sure of what you want first."

* * *

Much to Haytham's surprise, Achilles had allowed him to stay a few nights. There was no inn on the Homestead yet. He was allowed to say in the room on the second floor that led to the balcony. There was no bed and he was forced to sleep on one of the large couches. For his first night, he slept well after the grueling trip he went through to get here.

The next morning had to have been the most awkward breakfast he had ever had. Achilles informed him that Connor would leave before dawn to hunt in the forest and visit his village. This just left him and the other three Assassins eating at the table. At his time at the table, he learned that the young girl's name was Isla. She was fifteen-year-old Assassin who had just been inducted earlier that year. She was of Italian and British decent with medium chocolate brown hair and radiant ember eyes. The bottom half of her robes resembled that of the Ezio Auditore's black robes while the top resembled that of Colonial times. They were mainly a cream color with brown, and a turquoise color scheme and she wore a leather corset over them that held all of her weapons.

The other man living in the manor was William de Saint-Prix, an Assassin from France. He had moved here two years ago. He was in his late twenties and wore dark robes with a hat going over his hood. William was mostly Isla's mentor as Achilles was mostly busy with Connor since the two of them were at two completely different levels. From what he could tell, William was a well-mannered man and didn't seem too bothered by Haytham's presence. While Connor was out, Haytham also explained why he came to the Homestead to Isla and William. The two of them were doubtful just like Achilles, but they didn't seem as angry.

Just as they finished breakfast, Connor entered the kitchen with a sack holding his catch of the day. To Haytham's amazement, Connor didn't snap at him or really pay him any mind. He greeted everyone as if Haytham wasn't there at all. At first he wasn't sure if he was happy about it or if he just wanted his son to look at him. When Connor placed his kill on the back table, Haytham cleared his cleared his through before speaking. "Connor could we go for a walk for a moment?" Haytham asked.

Connor turned turn to him for a moment before making his way to the door. Haytham thought he was going to charge out the door, but Connor looked back at him. "All right," he said awkwardly.

Haytham stood from he seat at the table before grabbing his coat and hat that hung nearby. The two of them exited the manor together and went on the walk Haytham suggested. They walked in silence for the longest time before they eventually found themselves on beach in cove bellow the manor. The two of them looked out at the horizon without saying a word to each other.

"A long time ago…I planned on taking a trip to sea with your mother," Haytham said without knowing why.

This caught Connor's attention and he turned to his father, "Really?"

"Yes. It was after we killed Edward Braddock. However things got complicated," Haytham said with a bit of sadness.

"Then she left," Connor finished, "Why did you never try to come back?"

This question caught Haytham by surprise. Did Connor actually want him there? Why would he even ask if he didn't care? "Your mother wished for me to leave her. She feared for both her safety and yours."

"She did?" Connor questioned.

Haytham nodded, "She was angry at me for hiding who I was, but she feared for you the most. The war between the Assassins and Templars are dangerous enough as it is and she didn't want you to grow up having you fearing for your life."

"Then why are you here?"

"What?"

"If the war between our Orders is so dangerous and risky, then why did you come here? You should want to kill us!" Connor's temper began to surface.

Haytham held his ground and put up his hand in a calming motion. Connor was inwardly frustrated that the man wouldn't show any concern for his anger. "I've told you before. I don't know what I should be doing now. Everything I've done is conflicting with everything I stand for," Haytham explained.

Connor paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "Your father was an Assassin."

"Your grandfather," Haytham corrected, "And yes- he was an Assassin and he planned on training me to become one."

Connor nodded while he understood every word. Achilles told him that Haytham betrayed the Assassins, but he didn't know that he came from a long line of Assassins.

"So are you going back to them?" Connor asked.

"I don't know yet," Haytham said.

Connor didn't say anything and looked back out at the sea. "Then I guess…you can stay here."

Haytham looked to his son. Did he really just say he could stay here even though he may go back to the Templars? He took this moment to get a good look as his son. He was a mixture of himself and Ziio. He stood there in his robes and Haytham smiled. They were still loose on the shoulders, but Haytham knew very well that Connor would eventually fill them out. Connor was the alternate path of what Haytham could have become if his father had not died. But perhaps it wasn't an alternate. Perhaps Haytham just simply took a detour.

* * *

R&R PLz! :)


End file.
